Not Waving, But Drowning
by AdenFire
Summary: An intimate look into the next generation, fours years after the Deathly Hallows epilogue. "All was well" isn't exactly accurate anymore. In fact, all is pretty damn terrible at times.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello. Just a random idea that came to mind. **

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters of the Harry Potter universe. I also do not own Stevie Smith's poem from which this fic gets it's name. Basically, I own nothing except a really crappy Ford Tempo I call Nessie that is falling apart. **

* * *

_Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning._

_-Stevie Smith_

* * *

James Potter rolled over restlessly. Sitting up he punched his pillow into a different position and rolled over again.

"Jem, will you knock it off?" Al's muffled voice requested from the other side of the attic/bedroom at their grandparents' home. "I know that you're too cool for sleep now, but I'm an official loser and I still think sleep is awesome, so could you just hold still for ten seconds?"

"Sorry," James murmured. He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sloped ceiling. He felt awful. Ever since his mildly psychotic episode at the start of this summer, James's parents had refused to leave him alone for any extended period of time. They usually conned Teddy or one of his siblings to baby-sit him, but with the annual Ministry Ball that night, his parents must have believed he'd finally try something again. He assumed that they thought a whole onslaught of relatives would keep him from hurting himself. So, he lay there, wide awake, at the Burrow, surrounded in theory by practically the entire Weasley clan, as well as a few extras they had picked up over the years. James sighed again and resisted the urge to roll over. He didn't need to piss Al off any more.

Thinking back on it, James supposed that slicing his wrist open at the dinner table wasn't among his most brilliant ideas. Especially now, since all eyes were on him at all times. It was like being given a taste of Al's first ten years of life. He got a little more attention than he had bargained for with that brilliant stunt. His parents had even moved him into Al's room back home, using some pathetic excuse about getting a head start on redecorating for once James left home… in nearly two years.

He had just been so fed up with it all. Mostly because, after all of the acting out he'd done over the years, the one time he really needed attention, nobody was bothering to pay attention. This time, it wasn't his jealousy that Al and Lils were always the ones graced with the concern, while he was always the trouble maker that caused extra stress.

Mostly James was fed up with himself. Because after everything, even after The Stunt, he still couldn't bring himself to just tell his family what had been the cause of it. He couldn't muster up the courage… some Gryffindor he was.

Resentment rose up in his chest. The Weasleys always took care of each other in times of crisis. When Al was sick, everybody was there. When Teddy and Vic broke up suddenly over a stupid fight, everyone was there to collect the pieces and repair the broken hearts…

Nobody was there to repair James's broken heart. Because nobody even knew that James's heart was broken. Nobody knew that Adam had snapped it in two the day before his graduation because he felt he was making a mistake. Nobody knew because nobody, save for Adam, knew that James Sirius Potter was gay.

So, James mused, in his own personal case, if you add heartache to a secret, mix in a desperate wish for some kind of attention, and top with a family constantly thrust into the public eye, you get suicide threats and (highly unsuccessful) suicide attempts at the dinner table.

James sighed again, then held his breath. He listened for a moment to his little brother's deep breathing, before he dared to inhale again. He smiled slightly to himself at his mental use of the words "little brother." While Al was still scrawny, he'd shot up like a weed over the last school year… Little Albus wasn't quite so little anymore.

Peaking over the covers again, James took in his brother's form. Yes, he was most certainly asleep. James glanced down at the wrist he's cut at dinner; still wrapped tightly in snow white gauze… they couldn't seem to make it heal. He figured that its origin might have had something to do with it. He pulled away the gauze, and bit down on his lip as he picked painfully at the scab. It bled a little… hopefully enough to warrant more parental surveillance. He they saw he was keeping this up, they'd have to pay even closer attention. Maybe then he'd tell finally be able them, maybe then they'd know…

* * *

"Is Dad paying you to baby-sit me?" James asked Lily as she took as seat beside him in the backyard of their home. They were leaning against the tree in the backyard, looking out at the stream that ran the length of the end of their property.

"Nah," Said James's thirteen-year-old sister. She threw back her fiery red hair, an unsuccessful attempt to keep it out of her face. "This one's pro bono." They sat quietly for a few moments, both of them grasping desperately for something to talk about. Neither was being very successful… until Lily produced this gem. "Your wrist looks better now."

"Yeah," James said, rolling his eyes.

Lily's brown eyes suddenly caught James's blue ones. They held each other's gaze for a full moment, sadness creeping into Lily's eyes. "Didn't it hurt?" she finally asked.

"What?"

"When you cut your wrist, didn't it hurt?" Lily's innocence leaked into her voice, and James found himself surprised by it. Lily, poor Lily had seen so much, had been through so much, he had mistakenly assumed that she'd understand that this was just chalked up there with all of the other bad stuff.

James bit his lip, considering. "Yeah, I guess it did. Not much, but a bit."

Lily nodded. "Are you going to do it again?"

Now James found himself getting annoyed. This innocent act was hardly Lily's personality. He found it irritating that the typical know-it-all didn't know this time. He stood up, preparing to walk away. "You've never heard of subtlety, have you?"

"No," Lily retorted, hands on her hips, becoming an almost perfect model of her mother at thirteen, at least from what James had gathered. "My oldest brother _is_ James Potter, so I never really mastered the art."

_Smart-ass is back. _Despite his irritation, James couldn't help but smile. "No."

Lily smiled widely. "You won't do it again?" The innocence had returned.

"No, I never taught you to master subtlety."

They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of where to go from there. James turned away again, planning to retreat to the bedroom he was forced to stay in while his parents dithered around trying to figure him out.

"Are you ever going to tell them?" Lily called after him, a slightly hopeful look upon her freckled face. "About Adam, I mean."

James whipped around, crossing the distance between them rapidly. "What?" His eyes were wild, a mixture of joy that somebody understood, somebody finally knew, and the fear of rejection that came alongside that knowledge. Terror consumed James's face. When he was only inches from Lily's thin, boyish body he whispered, "You know?"

"Of course," Lily said, crossing her arms, all guise of innocence now vanishing from her features. "I'm an expert observer, you know. I blend into the background easily…" A sly smile crossed her face. "I also caught you trying to cover up one of Adam's little love bites back in April. That only proved it for me."

"Does Al…?" James let the question hang.

"I haven't said a word to anyone," Lily said. "He might, but he's never said anything about it to me."

* * *

James flopped onto his bed, exhausted. His little chat with Lily earlier on in the day had left him with so many questions that it had drained him of all energy.

"Hey," Al said, looking up from whatever book he'd been reading when James walked in.

"Hey," James responded, face in his mattress, his voice severely muffled.

Albus frowned, putting his book down. Leaning back on his pillows, the thin boy stared at his ceiling, covered with enchanted stars from his childhood that he had never been able to let his mother and father remove. "Remember, when I was six and Teddy accidentally lit me on fire?"

James smiled ever so slightly, confused at the random-ness of the question. He remembered the day vividly. It was Al's sixth birthday, and Teddy, being the big fourteen-year-old he was, had decided that he was going to help light the candles on Al's cake. Little did he realize that Al was bouncing excitedly in his seat exactly three inches from where lighter Teddy held was. So, when James accidentally knocked into Teddy's arm, the shoulder of Al's jumper caught fire and the whole room went into frenzied panic-mode. James propped himself up on one arm. "Teddy's face was pretty priceless, and Aunt Hermione was the only one with enough sense to actually put you out."

"Yeah…" Al said, grinning. "Remember going to King's Cross the day I started school?"

"How could I forget?" James said, turning his head to look at the ceiling. "I had you convinced that you'd end up in Slytherin."

"Yeah," Al laughed. "That was the day Dad said we'd only share a room if he wanted up to blow up the house."

James was silent.

"Do you think he's trying to tell us something?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. I still own nothing but Nessie. I especially do not own Harry Potter, Say Anything and their song "Every Man has a Molly," Regina Spektor, or Blink 182's "Rock Show." However, tomorrow I get to see them in concert.**

* * *

Nearly two weeks had passed without incident. James, while still living in Al's bedroom, was beginning to regain his personal privileges in terms of privacy. Gone were the days when Lily trailed, five steps behind him, wherever he went and the awkward, man-to-man talks that his Dad forced on him at random intervals. James was sure that he was still being constantly watched, but it was a relief to actually be allowed to use the loo without fear of an interruption.

* * *

"Where are you going?"The question paused James's stealthy walk down the hall. He had been half way to an escape, off to find someone, anyone, to talk him mind off of Adam. Leave it to Al to ruin his escape route. He turned and shot Al a dirty look. "I was going to go pay Teddy a visit," James lied quickly.

"Oh? Heading to France to see Vic's French grandparents too?" Al responded.

_Shit,_ James thought. His memory, typically so keen that even the minutest details could be easily recalled at a moment's notice, had failed him.

"Look, Jem," Al said, crossing his thin arms across his equally as thin chest , "Mum and Dad might be oblivious to the situation surrounding your current bought of depressing, but Lil and I aren't stupid…"

James felt resentment well up at his brother's use of, "Lil and I." Despite their two year age gap, Lily and Albus had always been close. Really close. Bonded by far more than just blood (though there was that too), the two of them were best friends, siblings, and they seemed to share everything. James had always felt… simply put, left out, when the two of them ganged up on him. He wished that he shared a bond like that with either of his siblings. He wished he had that kind of bond with anyone…

"Jem?" Al looked concerned. "You disappeared for a minute there. Is everything okay?"

"No, not really," James said quietly. He shrugged listlessly, unsure of what to do or say to his brother. All he wanted was to get the hell out of there. "Al? Can I ask you a favor?"

Al looked skeptical, frowning at his brother's tone. It sounded desperate, pleading. But it had the classic crafty edge that James's voice always held when he knew he was going to get his way. "I suppose."

"Let me go. Please? I won't do anything stupid, and I promise to be home by midnight," James had a steely note in his voice.

"I can't, Jem. You… I'm worried. "

"Yeah, so am I," James said, sounding a little angry. "Look, I'll strike you a deal."

Al swallowed hard. James struck deals often, but they were usually far more harmless. Normally there wasn't a fear that he wouldn't come home if Al agreed to his request. "What sort of deal…?"

James brightened, a little, in a grim way, if that was possible. His jaw was set. "You let me go and pretend to know nothing about my leaving, and I'll forget that I saw you collapse in a dizzy spell this morning."

Al's jaw dropped. James had him. Frowning deeply, Al nodded. "Fine…"

"Thanks!" James said, smiling suddenly. He practically skipped to the window, pried it open, and slipped out without another word.

* * *

The bass was exceptionally loud in the small crowded club. Some half-decent band of Hogwarts-age boys was covering an old Weird Sister's jam, and easily transitioning to an even more obscure cover of some American Muggle Emo Band. The song kept mentioning some girl named Molly Connelly, which struck James as odd. James looked around, yanking the baseball cap he'd brought with him onto his head. Right now, he did not need to be recognized as Harry Potter's wayward son, ought for a night of underage fun.

Right now, James didn't want to be anyone.

* * *

Lily walked into Al's room unannounced at ten thirty. "Mum and Dad are looking for Jemmy. Have you seen him?" She took a seat on James's bed, leaning back against the wall it was put up against.

Al frowned, closing out a window on the Muggle laptop his parents had gotten for him to use while he was home on breaks. Al was a member of several different support groups, several of which had online chats that he liked to participate in when he had the chance.

"I've seen him," Al said slowly.

"Okay, great," Lily said. "Where is he? I'll tell Mum and Dad."

"I don't know where he is," Albus said, biting his lip. "I just saw him sneak out about half an hour ago. He didn't say where he was going."

Lily frowned. "What kind of deal did he strike this time?"

Al looked ashamed of himself. "He said he'd let me tell Mum and Dad about the dizzy spell I had this morning…" He fiddled with a loose string on his bedspread. "I just wanted to digest it for a day or two before I told them. I mean, with Jem going off the deep end at the start of summer, I figured they could use a drama break. "

Lily nodded. "Okay. We can tell them tomorrow." They were quiet for a moment. "Have you heard from Scorpius?" As she asked, Lily's cheeks turned a little pink.

Al grinned wryly. "Maybe…" He said, raising his dark eyebrows. "Who wants to know?"

Lily threw a pillow at him. "Jerk," she muttered, standing to leave. She smiled widely at Albus as she turned to go, showing all her teeth. He returned the look.

* * *

"Hey," said a girl with dark hair and a knit had, taking the seat next to James at the bar. She ordered something he was unfamiliar with. It turned out to be a potent looking shot that the girl knocked back with ease. She turned and grinned at him. "You look familiar. Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," James said. "Gryffindor. You?"

"Hufflepuff," She said with the same mischievous grin. Her eyes lit up with recognition. "You're a Chaser, right? Wiped the floor with us in last year's Quidditch Final." She was sipping a violent green drink now, seeming to be totally focused on her conversation with James.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," James replied with a grin. He eyed the concoction she was drinking with a look of horror. "What, exactly, is that?"

The girl's smile widened, revealing two rows of straight, white teeth. She licked her lips, and flagged the bartender over. "Can I get another one of these for my friend over here?" The barkeep nodded wordlessly, and returned a moment later with her drink's twin. "Bottom's up, my Chaser Friend."

James shrugged, and took a cautious sip. Whatever it was, it tasted like an alcoholic version of a sour apple lollipop. "Not bad," he declared.

"You're not so bad yourself, Chaser."

"I'm James," he said after a moment, feeling foolish for not introducing himself.

"I know," she shouted over the sound of the band starting to adjust their instruments to begin playing again. She checked her watch, and looked anxiously up at the stage. "Look, I have a drum set that is begging me to go and bang on it. Can I count on you to still be here once our set is over?" She eyed him suggestively.

James swallowed hard. _What the hell,_ he thought. "Only if you tell me your name first." He grinned crookedly.

She looked delighted. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, her hands, clad in fingerless leather gloves, raking their way through his hair. "Iris," She whispered in his ear.

* * *

Harry Potter was pacing in his sitting room, and his wife was sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands. "I have no idea where he could be," Harry said to Ginny, worry creeping into his voice. "I checked with all of his friends' parents. I Flooed George to see if he was with Fred. I talked to your parents, to Ron and Hermione… Hell, I even called Andromeda up to see if she's seen him."

"You could always call Adam," Lily volunteered. She had been sitting, unnoticed by her parents, in the armchair in the corner of the room. "He might know where he is."

"Adam?" Ginny repeated, a look of confusion flitting across her face.

"You know, _Adam_," Lily said, as if it was obvious. "Two years older than James…? They played Quidditch together for the past few years…?" Her parents still looked clueless. "Big blond kid. A beater, I think."

"Oh," Harry said, realization dawning on him. "But why would he know?"

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, do you two know anything? He's Jemmy's ex-boyfriend."

Her parents stared at her in shock.

* * *

The strange band that seemed to cover any and all music ever had just finished its set, after the drummer, Iris, move to the keyboard to cover a Muggle song James remembered hearing as a child. The name slipped his mind, but he remembered that the song mentioned God and reminded James of hospital waiting rooms, and Al and Lily in matching hospital beds, and wishing that he was getting a special toy like his siblings.

"Hey, Chaser. You stayed through the whole set," Iris said, wearing a ridiculously wide grin. She put her hands on her hips. James realized that he thought she was… no, pretty wasn't what he thought. Attractive, certainly, but pretty seemed too bland and meaningless. She wore tight black jeans, a faded charcoal T-shirt with a band logo across the chest, a loose black vest, sneakers, and those fingerless gloves… Her dark hair was just a little past her shoulders and she wore some kind of a loose fitting knit hat, and her eyes were lined a little too heavily, and her lips looked full and pink… He blinked suddenly, blushing. Iris was giggling. "You like the outfit, then?"

James nodded mutely. "You want a drink?"

Iris considered for a moment. "Maybe one… but I'd kind of like to get out of here." She smiled, and then her attention was distracted suddenly. Looking behind him at what had caught Iris's eye, James was greeted with the sight of Adam, stranding less than ten feet away.

"Actually, I'd like to get out of here too," James said quickly.

Iris smiled widely. "Oh?" She licked her lips. "My place sound okay…?"

"Perfect."

* * *

James slipped silently –or as silently as an intoxicated teenager can slip –into Albus's bedroom, biting down hard on his lip. He was late. Very late. It was… Damn, it was getting close to three the last time James had seen a clock. And that was before he and Iris had polished off that bottle of rum, which seemed like ages and ages ago. Al was going to go spare if he saw James doing the walk of shame at some wee hour of the morning… probably even more so than his parents. Climbing into bed, fully clothed, James sighed. It appeared he had managed to pull this one off.

The light flipped on above Al's bed. In the yellow, weak light cast shadows across the tiny room, making Albus's thin, over-stretched looking appearance nearer to that of a talking skeleton. "Do you ever think about execution?"

The elder boy jumped at the unexpected audio and visual change. James rolled over to look at his brother, trying to keep the expression of shock off of his face. "No, not typically. Why?"

Al shrugged, not bothering to look over at James. "The concept is so strange. Think about it. All of your life you will spend trying to avoid death at all costs. You'll submit to unpleasant medical treatments, to awful tasting potions and medicines, and even to letting somebody tell you how much exercise you need and what foods you can eat. But, say you piss some powerful person off. Then, poof, magically you no longer have any control over what happens. You're going to die, plain and simple, no matter what you've eaten."

"Is that what it feels like right now?"

Al shrugged. "Not exactly. Because I might, just maybe, pull through. Be the miracle case one last time. Skin of my teeth and everything… But it's a similar feeling, I guess. I'm not sure. I've never been lined up for an execution." He yawned. "So, I never asked. Are you drunk?"

"Kinda," James slurred. His eyelashes seemed to be weighing his eyelids down, and the room seemed to be spinning in slow motion. "Are you drunk?"

Al laughed. "Nope. Stone cold sober."

"That's a shame. Being drunk is pretty awesome," James said, smiling stupidly. "I fell in love with a girl at the rock show…" He sang, a little off key.

Al looked at him severely. "What?"

"Chill, it's just an old song," James said. He stretched, and his body seemed to violently oppose the idea, as all of his joints seemed to pop and crack at that moment. "But I did meet a girl…"

"That's nice," Al said, confused. Now his theory about James and Adam, one that he was positive was correct, seemed to make no sense. "You friends now?"

"Something like it," James mumbled. He opened his eyes and looked at Albus, slightly unbalanced. "Ally…? Never do what I did tonight. Revenge sex is impolite…" He was giggling now.

Al said nothing in response, just pressed his lips together to resist laughing at his strange sibling's mildly humorous actions.

"We ought to get drunk together some time," James mused aloud, his eyes dropping closed before he finished his thought.

"Yeah," Al said, smiling slightly. "We should."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Sorry this update took ages. School and life got in the way of my writing, as always. I made the chapter a bit longer to make up for it, though! Please enjoy!**

**As always, I own nothing but the concept.

* * *

**

James woke with his head pounding; the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears made him feel ill. Opening his eyes, he grumbled, "Oh… who turned the sun on?" His mouth tasted and felt like he had spent the last few hours vigorously licking a doormat, and he felt as though his stomach was going to rebel against him at any minute. The night before came to him in flashes, each one making him feel worse than he last. Who the hell was that girl anyways? What had happened between then, exactly? The memories, piecing themselves together slowly, did not tell him a tale he would want repeated.

"Get up, Jemmy," Lily said, standing over her brother. "Mum's going to be up here in twenty minutes, and if you look hungover, she might kill you."

James peeked up at his little sister. Lily wore a faded pair of jeans, likely a left over from her tomboy phase of wearing nothing but hand-me-downs from her brothers. Her t shirt was a relic of summer Quidditch camp she had been allowed to attend for the first time last year, as it was the first summer in her life that Al didn't look like he was about to need a life saving donation from his sister. She held a potion bottle in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. "Please tell me that is for a headache…" he rasped.

"It is," Lily said, grinning. She passed them to her eager brother, taking a seat on the foot of his bed. Raising an eyebrow, she took in James's head of jet black hair, messier than even she thought was possible. He looked rather ill, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, and his eye were bloodshot and red rimmed. He looked rather small, her big brother. She sighed, fiddling with a strand of hair. "Today is not going to be pleasant, just so you know." She crossed her skinny legs at the ankle in an attempt to appear lady-like.

"Oh…?" James said, gulping his potion gratefully. "Why?"

"Well," Lily looked a little ashamed. "Mum and Dad found out about Adam… and Al is planning on telling them about the dizzy spells today."

"Oh…" James said, looking defeated. "And exactly how did Mum and Dad find out about Adam?" He swallowed some of his coffee, trying to keep his annoyance from his face when he tasted that Lily hadn't bothered to add any sugar.

"Your sister decided to enlighten us last night when you were missing for several hours," Harry commented from the doorway. He looked… not quite angry, but definitely displeased. He frowned, looking at his daughter. "So, Al's having dizzy spells now too? Fantastic. Anything else you're keeping from us Lil?"

Normally, if the situation was less dramatic, Lily would have responded instantly with a sarcastic remark about carrying Scorpius Malfoy's child or something that would equally appall her father. Instead, she bowed her head in shame and scurried out of the room before her father could say anything else.

"You're grounded," Harry said after a moment. His voice held no malice, and he seemed… tired, rather than angry.

"I figured," James said quietly. They weren't looking at each other, letting their eyes dart around Al's room for a pregnant moment without any words passing between them.

Harry sighed. "We're not angry –your mother and I, that is –we have just been very worried. You've been depressed all summer, and then you suddenly took off… It was frightening to think we might have lost you."

James shrugged. "I just needed to get out of here for a bit…" He admitted quietly. "And I didn't want to have to be babysat the whole time I was gone. I'm sorry…"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, nodding absently at his son's words. "Shit," he murmured under his breath, at an apparent loss as to what he should do here. "Jem, we'll talk later okay? I have to go speak with Mum... about Al." With a torn expression on his face, Harry turned, leaving his son neither scolded nor soothed as he had so many times before.

* * *

Albus was fidgeting at the table, barely touching his breakfast. Lily sat beside him, looking nervous, and whispering words of encouragement under her breath to keep him from bolting from the room. James sat, unmoving, across the table from his brother and sister. The siblings were currently listening to their parents arguing in the other room.

"He's sick, Harry!" Ginny was saying. "I know that you want his life to be normal, but it's just not that easy! I don't think that sending him off to school is the smartest idea right now…"

"Gin, if things get too bad, then I agree that being at school would only make things worse. But, the Healers say that it's only a molecular relapse so far… They caught it early, and he's looking well. We can't just pull him out of school because things _might_ get worse. It wouldn't be fair to him."

James sighed, sliding his chair across the wood floor as he stood. "I'll be right back, okay?" He strode into the kitchen where his parents were discussing Al's fate rather… loudly. "Hey!" He said, derailing his mother's argument that kids would make Al's life hellish. "Have the two of you thought that, maybe, you should just ask Al?"

* * *

James fidgeted in the light blue chair of the tiny office at St. Mungo's hospital. It had taken a lot to get himself into this chair, and now that he was sitting in it, his uncertainty about this choice was nearly overwhelming. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Why don't you tell me a little about what has been going on with you lately, James?" The witch in the armchair across from him asked, a clipboard perched on her lap, looking intently at the sixteen-year-old's face. "Please excuse me for having to write so much," she added, "It's just that, since this is your first time here, we want to gather the necessary information before we move any further with your treatment."

James nodded, swallowing a large gulp of air. He wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans. "Lately, I've been feeling rather...depressed." He finished lamely, unsure of how a trained professional would take the information. He glanced up from the space on the floor at which he had been staring, and peeked through his fringe at the witch with the clipboard.

She nodded. "Yes, I see that here on the forms you've filled out. Now, it also says here that you've experienced some suicidal thoughts? Could you tell me more about those?"

James nodded stiffly, and began to tell of how his brain was constantly racked with thoughts of worthlessness, and how he had begun to invent ways to get his hands on a type of weaponry that would allow for a showy end of his life. He talked of constant dreams of death and dying, and how often he'd find himself unable to concentrate on a simple task because the overwhelming need to do something -anything- to get him away from this unfair world was all consuming. He told of his Stunt at dinner over a month before, when he had slit his wrist at the table as some sort of plea for attention of any sort; he admitted it was a shameless, yet unanswered, cry for help. He mentioned that since he had taken to marking his skin under his clothes, small cuts, in order to release some of his daily frustration with his grappling desires for happiness and for death. He added quietly that he was having difficulty staying asleep at night, and that he was wholly uninterested in nearly all food. She took notes, and nodded several times, making a few comments.

"James, can you tell me a little about your family?"

He flinched.

"Just a reminder, James. Nothing you say will be in anyway accessible to the press. The only time it will go anywhere is when I refer you to your assigned professional. You're safe to say anything you'd like."

"My parents are married, of course. Have been for ages. I've got two siblings. Albus and Lily, they're fifteen and thirteen. Two of them may as well be twins, they're so damn close..." James noted how bitterness crept into his voice when he spoke of the closeness between his younger siblings. "Then of course there is Teddy Lupin, who may as well be my older brother with the amount he hangs around."

The witch nodded. "You say your younger siblings are 'close'?"

"Attached at the bloody hip," James heard his voice saying. "They talk about everything. Mind you, this is probably because they've been stuck together like this since Lils was born. Have to be, don't they? She's saved his life about three times now."

The witch frowned. "I don't understand."

James sighed heavily. "When Al was barely one, he was diagnosed with leukemia, which is damn rare in wizarding families... But there is some Muggle on my Dad's side, so... Anyway, I wasn't a match to help with his treatments, seeing as the treatments are basically a magicked version of Muggle treatments, as cancer is so rare in us... So, in order to save my brother, my parents decided to have another kid. They donated Lily's cord blood to him right after she was born. She's his perfect match, in all medical ways anyway. They spent a lot of time in twin hospital beds growing up... Had something to bond over, I guess. So, they're closer than sardines... And I'm the extra."

"Is that how you feel? That you're just an extra?"

James shrugged. "I guess. Sometimes. I dunno."

"Tell me more about yourself, James. When did you first notice these thoughts you've been having? When would you say they started?"

"Around December they started... But it got worst toward the end of June."

"Did anything happen at the end of June?" the witch asked, her quill poised above the clipboard.

"I... My boyfriend and I broke up..." James whispered, terrified to see the reaction on the woman's face. But it remained smooth, no signs of alarm showed in her eyes.

"I see," She said, noting this on her clipboard. "Do you identify as gay, James?"

Staring mutely into the carpeting, James nodded his head. He could not make words come to his lips. He had never admitted this to anyone, not officially, not out loud. He could not make his mouth fit the words, make it force them out.

"I see," She said again, noting yet another tidbit on her clipboard. "Have you considered coming out to your family, James?"

He shook his head quickly. "My sister... She knows... My brother probably does as well..."

"How do you think your parents would react if you were to share this with them?"

"I... I'm not sure," James admitted. "They're normally pretty tolerant, but there hasn't really been a similar instance I can compare it to... Plus, my brother's just gone into molecular relapse... and they already think I am crazy for the Stunt I pulled last month... I think it might just push them over the edge..."

* * *

James rejoined his mother and sister in the now familiar waiting room at St. Mungo's. In the pocket of his jeans was an appointment card to see a therapist of sorts for the next week. He took a seat beside Lily, reaching for an old copy of Quidditch Weekly. "Where have you been?" Lily asked, her eyes sliding over to take in her brother's slumped posture and exhausted appearance.

"Bumped into someone from school in the tea room, sorry," He muttered back. James looked positively exhausted. "Where's Al?"

"Blood work," Ginny answered, somewhat curtly. She seemed still displeased with the now days old argument at breakfast, as she was fully against Albus's return to school. However, with some pleading on his behalf, Al had managed to convince his mother that school would be the best place for him, and yes, if things got too difficult balancing treatments and schoolwork, he would come home straightaway.

"I always preferred bone marrow aspirations myself," Lily volunteered. "That's where they keep all the cute ones with their bare bums hidden under thin sheets." She and James struggled to disguise their sudden smiles. It was true, in some respect. As a child of three, during on of Albus's bone marrow aspirations, Lily had me her first "boyfriend." A boy of about fourteen, he was also having the procedure done, and she toddled over to him and informed him that they were going to get married. Whenever Al wasn't sick, this was a rather funny story.

"Lily Luna," Ginny whispered, a look of horror on her face. "There is nothing even remotely funny about this situation. Your brother is very very ill."

"Yeah," Lily said, a faltering grin gracing her speckled face. "But I'm going to get him better, like always. No real need to worry, Mum. I've got it covered." There was a slight uncertainty in her voice now; perhaps it had come in the last five years of Al's remission, perhaps it was simply an indication that Lily was growing up. But that slight faltering, so evident in her smile, it made the truth all too clear. This time, Lily might not be able to save her brother.

Ginny shot her another dark look, turning the page in her outdated magazine with far more force than was really needed.

* * *

The staff at St. Mungo's, used to Al's frequent visits by now, had decided it would be best to keep him overnight after the large number of procedures he had had done during the day, just to monitor him. The next day he would begin an outpatient regimen of treatments, with the end goal being to have him receive a bone marrow transplant from his sister.

Al closed his eyes, half wishing he could just drift off to sleep, the other half wondering if Lily would be round soon to keep him company. Lily was good in hospitals. Friendly, upbeat, never letting the severity of the situation overwhelm her. The rest of Al's family was too...serious about it. James always looked ill at the very sight of all the medical equipment, and as such was hardly talkative. His dad was always distracted, as if the hospital was trying to close in on him and he needed to find the emergency exit before it could. His mum...

Al sighed. His mum got strange whenever he was sick. Usually affectionate and loving, she turned almost cold. She separated herself from Al, choosing instead to pester Healers and research alternative treatment options. It was a complete disconnect, and Al couldn't stand it. Which is why he stuck close to Lil; she always knew what was up and what to do to keep his mind off of it.

Just as he allowed himself to frown over his sister's mysterious absence, a lanky blond burst into the room, a bag over his shoulder and a guitar case in his hand, looking positively livid. He was tailed by a redheaded girl of about fifteen, who looked on disapprovingly. "Potter," The boy barked, "Where the hell do you get off not owling me the minute you landed your scrawny arse in the hospital?"

Al's eye widened momentarily, then he allowed a small smile to play on his thin lips. "Jesus, Scorpius, you needn't act like my mother. I've already got one of those."

Scorpius Malfoy, the aforementioned lanky, loud blond sunk into a chair near the corner of the room. "Sorry, sorry..." He rubbed a hand through his shaggy blond locks, "Are you alright, mate?"

"Just fine," Albus beamed. "Only a little cancer. Nothing I've not done before." Albus watched as his friend's grey eyes flashed in what could only be interpreted as worry. "Really, Scorp, I've done this before. Loads of times, actually. Didn't you tell him Rosie?"

"I tried," said the redhead, who was the Potters' cousin Rose Weasley, taking a seat near the foot of Al's bed, "but you know how he is when he worries. Completely deaf to reason." As these words left her mouth, a small fond smile graced her rather pale face. She looked adoringly over at Scorpius, who frowned deeply at her. It was a well known fact that Rose had harbored a crush on the Malfoy boy for years now, but that Scorpius did not return her affections. In fact, he rather thought of Rose as a sister. But no matter how many times he reaffirmed these thoughts to her, she carried on like this, mooning over him whenever she thought he wasn't looking.

Al rolled his eyes at the exchange between his cousin and friend. "Look, they've caught it early. I'm going to be fine, alright?" They both nodded mutely. Al quirked an eyebrow suddenly. "How did you two get here? I was under the impression that if my last name was mentioned around Scorp's dad, it was punishable by certain death."

Scorpius smiled. "Oh, Dad's in France for a few weeks doing something rich and no long important. Mum let me visit Rosie-Poesy over here for a week so Teddy could take us all to that Fortuna Phoenix concert, remember? Friday night?" His eyes went very wide at the mention of his favorite band. Scorpius had taken a keen interest in music around his eleventh birthday, particularly bands that saw their heyday in Muggle America a decade prior. He had even taken up the guitar, and was often found fiddling with it around the other music enthusiasts lingering around Hogwarts. "You can still go, right Al? It just wouldn't be the same without you..."

Al shrugged, a frown creasing his brow. "I dunno... Mum didn't even want to send me back to school in September last week... I'm not sure how she would react to me going to a concert. I'll try my dad later, okay?"

"WHAT?" Scorpius exploded, jumping to his feet. "You can't not come back to school! You are, like, the only reason the seventh years haven't turned me into a human jinx target!"

Al frowned. "I convinced her to let me go back, as long as I was well." He crossed his arms, attempting to force confidence into his voice. "Really, I am going to be fine. I just can't play Quidditch this year. That's really the only way it'll affect me."

"You can't play Quidditch?" Rose asked, sounding rather disappointed. She and Al had been been on the team together since her third year.

"No," Al said, frowning slightly. "I sometimes get dizzy spells... I'd likely fall before I caught the snitch."

"Any clue who's Captain this year?" Scorpius asked suddenly.

"I dunno," Al said, frowning slightly. "Maybe Lucy?" He looked at Rose with questions in his eyes. "Have you heard anything?"

"Nope," Rose said shaking her head. "I'm surprised you don't know, Scorp. Being a Prefect and all."

Scorpius shrugged. "They don't really tell us that sort of thing. We typically find out through the grapevine or something."

"Wait, hold up," Al said, looking rather shocked. "Since when are you a Prefect?"

"Since yesterday, when I got my letter," Scorpius said, blushing slightly. "My mum's thrilled to bits, but I'm sure that my father won't be too keen on my being the Gryffindor Prefect." He looked rather put out, a dullness settling over his gray-blue eyes. Scorpius was forever attempting to win over his father, who was rather distant with both his wife and his son.

"So... Think Aunt Ginny could get us Harpies Tickets anytime soon?" Rose asked, changing the subject quickly.

The three friends sat chatting for over an hour, the visit punctuated with the occasional visits from a medi-witch or two. Scorpius was absolutely gushing about a band he'd recently discovered, some weird band with a strange name. Just as he described the back story of his favorite song (something about a man taking after a beatnik poet), Lily burst into the room, music pumping loudly out of her small music playing device. The words "I hate everyone" were blasting from her headphones, and she was nodding her head alone with the music. Scorpius, recognizing the song, beamed in Lily's direction. "Oh," she said, removing the headphones quickly, "I wasn't expecting visitors, sorry. Al's used to my strange musical habits." She flashed a quick smile at her bed ridden brother. "So, what's up?"

* * *

James, home alone with his parents, felt ill. His brother was overnight in the hospital, and Lil was due home any minute after her few hours at his bedside keeping him company. James closed his eyes, reliving his visit to the therapist earlier. He was still in a state of disbelief that he had even gone. Reaching into his pocket, he found his salvation in the form of a mobile phone, dialed his own personal savior before her could change his mind. "Hey, Catie?"

"Hey Jemmy, what's up?" a girl on the other end responded. James could picture her doing something outlandishly girly, like painting her nails. "Ooh, wait, you go in a second. I've changed my hair."

"Did you?" James asked, and despite his awful mood, he felt a tug pushing his lips into a smile.

"Yes, yes, I've turned it pink," Catie replied, giggling. "My parents are furious, of course, but I quite like it." She paused, and James could hear her maneuver her mobile so that she could carry on with whatever it was she was doing. "Now what's up? You never call unless you're in crisis."

"I... I saw a counselor today."

"What sort of counselor?" Catie asked, sounding suddenly worried.

"The I'm-in-a-bad-way variety," James answered, frowning. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. He hadn't truly planned to tell anybody at the start...

"Shit," Catie muttered, shifting her phone again. "Jemmy, what's up? Has something happened?"

James sighed. "Too much has happened..." He rubbed his eyes, realizing that he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks. "I'm sort of grounding at the mo', but is there any chance I could get you to sneak out and meet me?"

Catie sighed, "Yeah, no problem. The parents couldn't get any more angry, but they'd never keep me in. I'll be at the pond around eleven?"

"Great, I'll see you then," James said, relief creeping into his voice.

"Jem?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. I am fantastic with drama, remember? I love you," Catie's voice was reassuring and strong, which James greatly appreciated.

"I love you too."

* * *

"Mum!" Lily jumped out of the fireplace, brushing herself off quickly. "I brought company! Please have trousers on!" A moment later, Scorpius Malfoy stepped out of the Potters' fireplace, guitar case in his left hand.

"Mum's just left to visit your Aunt Hermione," Harry called from the kitchen. "And if you've brought a boy home, he'd best turn 'round before I make it out there." There was laughter in her father's voice, which was a bit refreshing after the somber tones that had enveloped the Potter residence for nearly the whole summer.

"Relax, Dad," Lily said, leading Scorpius into the kitchen. "I've only brought Scorp back to entertain him while Rosie nips over to Vic's flat to fetch her barrettes or something like that." She took a seat at the table, Scorpius beside her.

"Alright Scorpius?" Harry asked, drying a dish in his hand before returning it to the shelf where it belonged.

"I'm well, Mr. Potter," Scorpius replied politely, straightening his posture. This sent Lily into fits of giggles. No matter how many times Scorpius visited the Potter household, he never could never manage not to act a little too polite in front of Harry.

"You need anything Lils?" Harry asked, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Nope, Dad, we'll be good," Lily said with a wide smile. "You can go visit Al now." Harry nodded, patting his daughter on the head and, not long after, flooing to the hospital. There was a moment of quiet, and Lily could heard James talking softly to someone upstairs. Coughing awkwardly, not wanting James to be overheard in whatever conversation he was having, Lily fiddled with her fringe.

"So," Lily said, smiling at Scorpius with a sudden stroke of brilliance, "You want to play a little game?"

Raising an eyebrow, Scorpius smiled. "Okay..." he said slowly. "Shoot." He was a bit out of his element, being in this room with Lily instead of Al. They had had minimal interaction other than conversations in halls and at the breakfast table. It was obvious that Scorpius was Al's friend, and that Al was rarely willing to share him. So, being there with Lily was rather...different.

"Teddy and I used to play this a lot when I was younger and Al was in the hospital, and thus, not a lot of fun for me," Lily grinned, but there was a bit of sadness in her eyes. "Okay, I'll sing you a bit of a song, and you finish the line. We take turns. First one to stump the other wins, yeah? That sound good?"

"Brilliant," Scorp said, excitement dancing in his eyes. "Go ahead."

"Okay," Lily said grinning. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then sang, "I'm good to go, but I'm going nowhere fast..."

"Could be worse, I could be taking you there with me," Scorpius finished, a devilish grin playing upon his lips. "Gotta love Saturday. Band was pretty decent for a few years..."

"I know. After Infinity on High though, I wasn't as invested. They got too big, I think."

"Yeah, really," Scorpius said grinning. "I mean, What a Catch Donnie? What the hell was that?"

"A song to prove that they were once not horrible," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Okay, it is your turn."

"Uh..." Scorpius thought for a second, then sang, "The ocean, is on fire/ The sky turned dark again/ As the boats came in..."

Lily beamed, "And the beaches/ Stretched out with soldiers/ With their arms and guns/ It has just begun." She gigged for half a moment, "A good Angels and Airwaves fan is hard to find in this day and age. I always liked Tom DeLonge; Blink was always a good choice too..." Lil wasted no time thinking of a new song, immediately singing out, "And it disappeared at the same speed/ as the idealistic things I believed..."

"The optimist died inside me... No sunlight, no sunlight..." Scorpius completed. "Damn, you're good. You may very well be my musical soul-mate... Death Cab is high on my list..." He paused, looking at Lily as if he had never met her before in his life. "Where has this musical knowledge been hiding for the last five years?"

"It's been there," Lily laughed, "You just need to look for it. I don't wear it on my sleeve like you do."

"Too true," Scorpius said, a smile laced with confusion appearing on his lips. "Let's see... Okay, right, you'll never get this one." Smiling broadly, he produced, "The light had slipped through the window/The morning ripped you away oh..."

"Don't wake me up/ I am still dreaming/The story's undone/ Unravel at the seams/ Don't wake me up/ Death is misleading/ And when I fall asleep/ Sleep with a ghost," Lily finished the song's chorus, smiling so much it made her cheeks hurt. She was in some type of happy shock. Nobody ever could match her at this game, and suddenly she was faced with a worthy competitor. It was a fantastic feeling.

"I freaking love you, Scorpius! You're my absolute favorite. I cannot believe we're never done this before..." Lily watched a slow grin spread over his pale face. He looked rather... happy. "Okay. This one has got to stump you, for sure." She cleared her throat. "I want to know your plans/ and how involved in them I am..."

"Wait!" Scorpius said, stopping her.

"What?" Lily asked, surprised.

"That is possibly my favorite song. Just a minute." Scorpius hurried out the the room, and returned quickly with his guitar. Returning to his seat, Scorpius began to strum the song's introduction. "I want to know your plans/ and how involved in them I am/ When I go to sleep for good, will I be forgiven?" He glanced up at Lily, flicking his blond hair from his eyes. "And if you want roses..."

"Roses..." Lily chimed in with the harmony.

"You can go buy a bouquet. If that just won't cut it..."

"Cut it..."

"Well, what can I say?" Scorpius, closing his eyes now, sang out. "You're what keeps me believin' the world's not gone dead./ Strength in my bones, put the words in my head./ When they pour out to paper, its all for you... 'Cause that's what you do."

"That's what you do..." Lily finished, grinning like mad. Raising a brow in question, Scorpius nodded for her to continue. "I want to know your fears./ From your feet to the back of your ears. /When they raise the landing gear, will your heart stay here?"

"If you could forgive me," Scorpius picked up, completely losing himself in the song. His eye closed, as if he was in a state of complete peace.

"Forgive me..."

"For being to brash./ Well you, you could hit me or whip me./ Oh, oh, I'd savor each lash..."

"You're what keeps me believin' the world's not gone dead./ Strength in my bones, put the words in my head./ When they pour out to paper, its all for you... 'Cause that's what you do," Lily sang, her voice quiet yet strong.

"That's what you do..."

Unknown to the pair, Rose Weasley had been standing in the doorway for most of the song. She knew nothing of the game, and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she saw the pure happiness on Scorpius's face. He never looked like that around her. And now, Lily? Her younger cousin? Of all people, he looks this happy around her? Clearing her throat, Rose took a step into the kitchen where he sat.

They stopped abruptly, blushing slightly as they turned towards Rose. "Hey Rosie!" Scorpius welcomed brightly, "How's Vic?"

"She's good," Rose said, quieter than usual. "Come on, Mum's expecting us soon."

"Okay," Scorpius said, looking rather disoriented. He wasn't sure what if was, but something told him he really just wanted to stay in this kitchen with Lily and his guitar. Shaking his head, he added, "Just let me pack this up, okay?" He took his guitar and carried off to relocate its case.

Lily looked up at her cousin with curiosity. "You okay, Rosie?" Rose looked noticeably put out about something, though Lily did not have the slightest idea as to what it could be. Perhaps something had happened at Vic's?

"Yeah," Rose said, sounding anything but okay. "We'll see you later Lils."

"Yeah, see you later Lil!" Scorpius said, smiling. "I'll beat you next time!"

"Bring it on!" Lily giggled. The moment they were gone, Lily dashed up to Albus's room. Upon entering, she recalled quickly that Al was in the hospital and James was staying in the room. Unhindered by this, she launched into a total giggle fit. "Jemmy!" She cried, throwing herself on Al's bed, "I have had the most amazing night!"

James looked far from interested, but sat up and looked at his small sister expectantly. "Okay, tell me. What was so 'amazing'?"

"Scorpius Malfoy is the coolest boy I have ever met," She gushed. Pausing at James's amused look, she added, "Well, after you and Al and Teddy, that is. Anyway, he plays guitar! And his favorite song is MY favorite song and we sang it together and it was just so cool!"

"Breathe, kid," James said, smiling a little. "You like him, I take it?"

"Well..." Suddenly Lily deflated. "Damn..." Her eyes looked worried. "He's Al's best friend... And Rosie is practically in love with him..."

James frowned with her. "I'm sorry, Lils."

"Me too," Lily pouted, flopping back on Al's made-up bed. That just wasn't fair. How could it be that the one good thing that had happened all summer was to be so tainted by the circumstances of life and its irritating complications. "Life sucks."

"I couldn't agree more."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Al?" Harry asked his son, who had propped himself up in bed with a spellbook on his lap.

"Good, good," Albus responded, though he looked a bit paler than usual, and his movements were decidedly slower than usual. "Just a bit tired. They say my outpatient treatments are supposed to start tomorrow, right?"

"Right," Harry said. He frowned deeply. He hated seeing his son in a hospital bed like this; Albus's illness had never failed to make him feel desperately helpless as a parent.

"Dad," Albus said, sounding suddenly serious. "I need to talk with you about something." His eyes, green as ever, held a look of steady determination. Without waiting for his father to respond, Al continued, "If this round of treatments doesn't work..."

Harry shook his head, interrupting his son. "You can't be thinking like that, Al. It will."

Al shook his head dismissively. "Look, Dad... You and I both know that beating this a third time would be nothing short of miraculous. I know better than anybody that I wasn't supposed to live past my eighth birthday. But, if this round doesn't work... I am going to refuse treatment."

"No," Harry said, quietly now. "You cannot just give up like this. I'll not let you kill yourself."

"I'm not killing myself, Dad!" Albus protested. "I am just... tired. And I know that my being sick puts a lot of strain on everybody. Especially Lily. Don't you understand that I don't go through this alone? Every time I relapse, Lily goes through it too. It just isn't fair to her. What if she wanted to travel? Or if she wanted to play Quidditch professionally? She can't do that if she needs to hang around all the time, waiting to give me some blood or an organ or something..."

Albus looked up at his father, his eyes glassy and his throat tight. "I... I'll likely not be of age should anything happen. Mum would never agree to stop, but I thought that maybe... Maybe you might understand what it is likely to be fighting an endless battle..."

"This is different, Al," Harry murmured.

"I know," Al said, his voice barely audible. "But I am just so tired... And if this doesn't work.... Dad, I don't want to have to fight anymore."

Harry felt his eyes prickle and his throat burn. "Al... We'll talk about this later, okay? First, let's worry about this round. Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Al said softly. He cleared his throat. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Do you believe in God?"

Harry looked uncertain for a moment. Albus had been full of these questions, typically unprompted, for years now. But this one baffled him most. Typically, wizards weren't religious people. He and Ginny had never taken the children to church or anything of that sort. Harry had tried not to fret on the subject of a higher being, especially when his own brushes with death hadn't really provided a satisfactory answer to such a question. "You know I'm not by any means religious, Al. I firmly believe in Good and Evil, but hardly in a Biblical sense. But, I think it is likely that there is some sort of higher power... For all of this to be a coincidence seems unlikely to me..."

Al nodded. "Thanks Dad." He yawned widely.

"Tired?" Harry asked, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. These questions of Al's always threw him and left him feeling especially uncertain as to what he was supposed to do.

"Very," Al said, looking distracted. "Are you ever going to talk to James?" Harry looked surprised. "He needs help, I think. I saw him changing the other day... He's got these marks on his arms and legs... He doesn't sleep, Dad."

Harry frowned. In all of the concern for Al's relapse, he had mostly brushed James's problems to the side. First there was the apparent depression all summer, followed by the unexplained presence of this Adam character, and now... now Al was telling him that James was deliberately hurting himself. "Yeah," Harry said, looking distracted, "I think I'll do that now... Sleep well, Al. I'll be here early tomorrow to take you home."

* * *

Harry entered his son's room without knocking, seeing James staring blankly at the ceiling of his brother's room. Without bothering to look at his father, James said, "Is it time for my lecture now?"

"I'm not here to lecture you," Harry said, taking a seat in Al's desk chair. "But I am rather worried. Especially if what your brother said is true."

"Yeah, what did _Al _say?" James spat, still not bothering to look at his father.

Harry pushed that comment aside, and stood quickly. "Your brother thinks you might need help. He says he is worried that you might be hurting yourself." He crossed the room in a few strides, and looked down at his eldest son. "James, is that true?"

James did not make eye contact with his father, choosing instead to stare directly past him. "No. He's wrong." He crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "James," he said gently. "Let me see your arm, please."

James held his arms tighter to himself, sitting up and meeting his father's eyes for the first time. "No." It was not a strong refusal, but a plea. For his father to understand, to not let him find out this way.

Harry reached out and took James's arm, firm yet gentle. James did not protest; he simply watched the shock and horror cross his father's face at the myriad of scars and cuts crisscrossing his son's forearm. Across his wrist, the deep cut from a few weeks prior was only just beginning to fade. "Oh, Jemmy..." Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Well..." James said, his voice breaking slightly, "Now you know."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry asked, taking a seat beside his son. He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. "We can get you help... You don't need to be going through this..."

"I'm getting help..." James whispered. "I... went earlier today." He shrugged helplessly. "I just don't know what to do anymore... So much has happened... And now this..."

"What's happened?" Harry asked, secretly fearing that no matter what his son said, he would be immensely unprepared for it.

James looked at his father, and quietly answered, "Adam."

They looked at each other now, father and son. They were so similar in appearance. They had matching untidy black hair, though Harry's was beginning to add flecks of gray. The same thin face and knobby knees. Same build, though James was a little less mature and solid, still operating with hands and feet that he hadn't quite grown into. The main difference, just like the father and his own father, was the eyes. While Harry's were still a brilliant green, James had inherited clear blue eyes from his grandfather. Both of his parents had been quite surprised when his eyes never changed from their baby blue, but Harry thought now that blue eyes certainly suited his son.

"So," Harry said, running a hang through his hair. "What exactly happened with you and this Adam?"

James felt himself blushing, rather suddenly. "We dated in secret for most of last year. He broke up with me right before he graduated… He said that he wasn't ready to come out and that dating me would be dangerous if the press ever found out."

"Oh," Harry said, unsure of what he was supposed to say next. There was no script for parenting, and at this moment its existence was sorely missed. "So, why didn't you tell us? Mum and I rarely go running to the papers about our business."

James was biting his lip. Fear was welling up in him. He kept waiting for the explosion, the expression of hatred and prejudice. It didn't come. "I just… I thought that… I was afraid that you'd be mad at me…"

"Why would you think that?" Harry said, honestly shocked.

"Well," James's voice had taken on a watery quality that Harry hadn't heard since he was probably about ten. "Well… with Al being sick all the time… I didn't think you wanted another kid with something wrong with them…"

"Jemmy, there is nothing wrong with you!" Harry said, putting his arm around his eldest son.

James fought, weakly, against his father's grasp, hiding his face from Harry. "Yes, I am. I'm a freak!" Harry could tell that James was crying, but he did not want to embarrass him further by mentioning it. "It'll be all over the papers... Harry Potter has Freakish Gay Son; World Shocked."

"You're not a freak," Harry said firmly. "You're just… different. There is nothing wrong with being different."

James wiped his eyes on his sleeve, before looking at his father with narrowed, red-rimmed eyes. "Where did they teach you to say that?"

"Nowhere," Harry said, shrugging. "I just said it. Too corny?" He did not release James from the half-hug he had pulled them into; afraid that if he did that James would never come back.

"I think you must have picked it up from a greeting card or something," James said, with a watery grin.

"Might have. I dunno," Harry said. He shook his head, laughing slightly. "Are you going to be okay, Jemmy?"

"I'm not sure..." James mumbled, looking down suddenly. "This stuff about Adam is really only part of it..."

"I suppose you're right," Harry said. "Did you want to talk about... the other parts?" He tried to phrase it as delicately as he could have.

"I..." James looked scared momentarily, then sighed. "I don't trust myself... All I think about some days is suicide..." His voice broke again, and he buried his head in his arms.

Harry rubbed his back, trying his best to soothe his son. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he was about to try and convince his child that there was something to life that made it worth living. Sighing, Harry put his arm around his son a second time and squeezed him tightly. "Jemmy, you made a great choice seeking help. And your Mum and I are always here if you need us," Harry said quietly. "You're going to get through this, somehow. Okay? It'll be a fight worth fighting in the end."

James nodded, swallowing hard. "Do I have to tell everyone?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd suggest that you tell your mother… Other than that, it's up to you." James nodded, letting himself rest against his father for a moment. Harry was suddenly reminded of doing this when James was a very small boy. It struck him that his son, his little boy, was nearly seventeen years old. "Where did the time go, Jemmy?"

"Not sure," James said, smiling a little. "It certainly went fast didn't it?"

* * *

**In case you are interested, the songs used in this chapter, along with being a shameless plug for my own music, are Saturday by Fall Out Boy, The War by Angels and Airwaves, No Sunlight by Death Cab for Cutie, Don't Wake Me Up by The Hush Sound, and finally, I Want to Know Your Plans by Say Anything. Just recall that while many of you might know these songs, in this time line they are between 10 and 20 years old, performed by Muggle bands from America. So, these two kids are into rather "obscure" music for their time. **

**Thank you all for reading! **


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